by E. M. Foner
“And whatever happened to Banger?” Ailia asked, referring to the little Stryx who was Samuel’s work/play assignment. She had made friends with Banger during the six months she lived with the McAllisters after being abandoned by her nurse on the set of ‘Let’s Make Friends.’
“I haven’t seen him in over a year. I guess he’s busy exploring the multiverse, and Jeeves told me that it’s easy for Stryx to forget how quickly time passes for humans. Banger might get caught up working on some math puzzle, and by the time he figures it out, we’ll all be dead.”
“I’m sure he’d come if you asked Jeeves to call him.”
“I would if I had more time to spend with him, but it wouldn’t be right to invite him to come visit, and then only have a couple of hours a day to hang out.”
“I hope you aren’t neglecting Vivian when you aren’t practicing your ballroom dancing.”
“Oh, I see her every day at the university too. We usually eat lunch together, and sometimes she comes by the lost-and-found and does homework with me. And we fence at least once a week, though she cheats.”
“Cheats?”
“You know, she won’t fight by Vergallian rules.”
“That’s very wise of her,” Ailia said softly.
“She’s really a lot of fun,” Samuel continued. “I wish you could meet her. I think the two of you would be great friends.”
Seven
Kelly tried to weave her way through the crowd of around two dozen people blocking the entrance to the EarthCent embassy. She was carrying a flat box containing a half-dozen donuts from Hole Universe in honor of Friday, and she was afraid they would get crushed. The ambassador momentarily regretted her decision to stop wearing heels when she turned fifty-five because she couldn’t see over any of the men in front of her, but then she heard Donna’s voice above the loud conversations.
“None of you are getting first dibs on the ambassador if you don’t get out of her way,” the embassy manager warned the crowd. “Everybody just squeeze over to your right and open a path for her.”
The threat did the trick, and amidst a good deal of grumbling a narrow passage opened to Kelly’s left, and she brought the donuts safely through to the reception desk.
“Libby told me you were stuck outside,” Donna explained. “After Daniel announced to his Sovereign Human Communities group that you had authorization to include a trade delegation on the mission, they all made record time getting here.”
“I didn’t bring enough for everybody,” Kelly whispered in dismay. “We can’t just eat in front of them.”
“Don’t worry, they’ll all be out of here soon. Daniel’s organization has a budget for meeting space. When I pinged him at home about the turnout, he headed for the Little Apple to help Ian get Pub Haggis open. They don’t usually serve breakfast.”
“Good move. But why are all of the people still here?”
“Ian asked me to wait until they prepared the restaurant for business. It’s tough to get the chairs down and the tables moved into place if it’s packed with people.” Donna stopped and pointed at her ear to let Kelly know that she had an incoming message. Then she nodded and announced in a loud voice, “Associate Ambassador Cohan has arranged to meet you all at Pub Haggis in the Little Apple. Seating is on a first-come, first-serve basis, and Ambassador McAllister will follow you there.”
There was an immediate stampede for the lift tubes in the corridor. The jam cleared in less than two minutes, though the early arrivals who had been inside the embassy at the front of the line complained loudly about the unfairness of the whole process.
“That was just a little mean,” Kelly observed. “You know that Pub Haggis has more than enough space for everybody.”
Donna shrugged. “I’m the one who sent out Daniel’s announcement. The recipients were supposed to contact us for individual meetings, but they all tried to get a jump on each other by showing up here.”
“Oh. Well, now we have too many donuts,” Kelly said, then clamped her hand over her mouth in disbelief that she had uttered such blasphemy. Donna opened the box and removed a honey-dipped, and then the ambassador took a triple-chocolate and bit into it with a sigh. “Daniel usually eats three.”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full. Daniel won’t turn his nose up at slightly stale donuts when he gets back here, and I’ll put one aside for Lynx.”
“I could manage another half,” the ambassador said hopefully, but her friend folded the tabs of the box back into place and set it out of Kelly’s reach. “Anyway, did you just commit me to going to Pub Haggis?”
“You may as well participate in picking the lucky winners since you’re going to be traveling with them,” Donna pointed out. “Libby. How many extra people can Kelly bring along?”
“There isn’t a hard limit on the size of the delegation, but you wouldn’t want to overwhelm the Alts. It’s up to the ambassador to decide, though I might suggest making selections that will reflect positively on humanity’s integration with the tunnel network.”
“Letting us off of probation would be a positive reflection,” Kelly hinted, but the Stryx librarian didn’t rise to the bait. “So you mean I should bring along a representative from the open worlds of each different species rather than pushing for commercial ties right off?”
“Excellent decision,” Libby confirmed. “Especially since you have no way of knowing what products might be of interest to the Alts.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Donna said. “Pushing for business before we’ve even established relations or persuaded them to join the tunnel network would be putting the cart before the horse. By the way, Chastity wants to talk to you about press coverage.”
“Oh, so now you want a favor,” Kelly drawled, eyeing the forbidden donuts. “You know, what with running back and forth to Ian’s and arguing with a bunch of businessmen who won’t like being left behind, I’ll be burning off plenty of extra calories today.”
“Half,” Donna grudgingly agreed, reopening the donut box and breaking the other triple chocolate donut into two pieces. She offered the smaller half to Kelly, who displayed her negotiating skill by merely lifting an eyebrow. “It’s your funeral,” the embassy manager warned, giving in and passing over the larger piece.
“I was going to invite Chastity anyway,” the ambassador taunted, dancing back out of Donna’s reach. With the partially eaten donut in one hand and the newly divided half in the other, she looked every inch the chocoholic that she was.
“Chastity wants to bring one reporter from Union Station and two Children’s News Network correspondents from Earth.”
“The kids from Earth were the president’s idea,” Kelly said. “I guess a local reporter won’t hurt anything, and the press will help keep the alien ambassadors and Daniel’s people out of my hair.”
“You better head down there before he tells them they can all go along to get them out of his hair,” Donna advised.
“Good point,” the ambassador mumbled with her mouth full, and headed for the corridor. “I’ll be back.”
“I’m pinging Ian and telling him not to let you have anything to eat,” Donna called after her. “And you just lost your gold star for the day on our diet chart.”
Kelly sucked the chocolate off the fingers of her free hand before turning her attention to the bonus half. She walked rapidly towards the Little Apple, though she was sorely tempted to take the lift tube to save the fifteen minutes. The ambassador compromised by pinging Daniel and asking him not to make any promises before she arrived.
By the time Kelly walked into Pub Haggis, Ian was refilling the giant urn of coffee, and most of the would-be representatives for the scattered human communities were giving their full attention to a Scottish breakfast.
“Ian,” Kelly greeted the proprietor, who she hadn’t seen in several months. “Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice.”
“Coffee or tea only,” he told her by way of a reply. “Orders from the boss.”
“Daniel told everybody to order breakfast and wait until you got here. Interesting bunch of people he’s collected.”
While letting her tea bag steep in the mug of hot water, the ambassador took a minute to study the group of candidates for her mission, and found that she had to agree with Ian’s assessment. It was clear that they were all dressed to impress, but something about their choice of formalwear was just a little off. She saw one fellow in a custom tailored suit with what looked like a leather axe holder protruding from a reinforced patch on the shoulder, and a woman in a green lamé dress that would have been perfect on a mermaid.
Daniel approached the hot drinks station to refill his coffee and greeted the ambassador. “I hope you saved me some donuts. I didn’t forget that it was your turn to buy this Friday.”
“Donna put them in your office. How did you choose who to invite for today?”
“I used population for a cut-off, so everybody here represents a sovereign community with at least a million members, though we count all of the factory towns or mines on open worlds as a single community. These people are professional travelers who keep a go-bag at the office, and their worlds are all on the tunnel network, so I’m not surprised they made it so fast.”
“They’re dressed a bit—funny.”
“Really? I didn’t notice.”
“Well, what about the guy with the parasol?”
“Dirk Henshaw, though he prefers to be called ‘Dyhenth’ these days. He’s from a community specializing in materials engineering on a Verlock open world. The planet is much closer to its sun than most places humans would choose to live, so parasols and pith helmets are pretty much required.”
“And the mermaid?”
“Suzy. She doesn’t use a last name any more. Suzy represents several of our communities on the oldest Frunge open world. Many of the humans who used to work as laborers in metallic fabric manufacturing there stayed after their contract expirations to start their own specialty mills. That dress may look slinky, but it’s proof against most handheld projectile weapons, though unless you wore heavy padding underneath, you’d end up with a magnificent bruise.”
“I see. What’s with the people at the table in the corner where everybody is wearing hoodies that look like they could double as straitjackets?”
Daniel shrugged. “It’s the latest fashion with humans on some Dollnick worlds. I guess they’re trying to compensate for only having two arms by sewing those empty sleeves across the front. Makes as much sense as any fashion, I guess, but don’t tell Shaina you heard me say that.”
“It’s a good thing the Hortens don’t have many open worlds or your members would be covering themselves in make-up,” Kelly jested. She saw the associate ambassador wince as he stared over her shoulder, and she turned to see a woman with a fire-engine red face. “Oops.”
“Ursula,” the newcomer said shortly. “From Horten Forty-Six, their first open world.”
“I’m so sorry,” Kelly apologized, noting that the bright red of the woman’s complexion was fading rapidly to pink before her eyes. “How do you do that?”
“My thermal makeup? It uses nanobot technology licensed from the Gem to integrate and amplify changes in skin temperature and perspiration and then alter the displayed color accordingly.”
“I guess it comes in handy if you’re living on a Horten world,” Kelly said diplomatically.
“Actually, it’s beginning to sell very well in boutiques throughout the station network. ‘Honesty’ is the brand name. I’m sure that the Alts will be very enthusiastic about it,” Ursula concluded, her face taking on a light brown shade that could have been mistaken for a tan. “It also moisturizes and offers better protection from ultraviolet radiation than standard sunblockers.”
“Do you have samples?” inquired the man in the pith helmet, who had joined the group which was forming around the hot drink urns.
Ursula delved into her over-sized purse and came up with a handful of plasticized rectangular packages that reminded Kelly of the condiment packets that came with take-out food. “Just remember,” she cautioned, counting five samples into Dyhenth’s hands. “Your face will be an open book, so don’t get in a poker game or try fibbing to your wife.”
“Thanks. I’m not married, actually.”
“Excuse me, Ambassador McAllister,” somebody said at Kelly’s elbow, tearing her attention away from the colorful pair. “I noticed you looking at my dress earlier, and I was wondering if I could get a meeting…”
“We’re going to try to settle on the delegation right here so that we don’t keep any of you from your work longer than necessary,” Kelly cut her off. “Do you know if you’re the only candidate from a Frunge open world here today?”
“I believe so, yes, but you didn’t let me finish. I was hoping you could introduce me to your daughter. You are Dorothy McAllister’s mother, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I—my daughter?”
“The fashion designer,” Suzy said patiently, as if she were talking to a child. “We have an exciting new line of metallic fabrics produced with Frunge techniques that I’m sure she would find of interest.”
“I’m sorry I misunderstood. I’ve sort of lost my ability to multi-task as I’ve gotten older,” Kelly apologized. “I’m afraid Dorothy left Union Station last week on an extended trip. I know that SBJ Fashions is always open to new ideas, and I’m sure Associate Ambassador Cohan will be glad to introduce you to his wife, who is one of the partners.”
“Shaina or Brinda?” asked the fabric rep, who had obviously done her homework.
“Shaina,” Kelly replied. “I think she uses her maiden name at work.”
“Shaina Hadad,” Suzy affirmed. “She’s married to Daniel Cohan? I mean, if you people are going to persist in using multiple names, you could at least be consistent about it.”
“My feeling exactly,” Daniel said, turning back to the conversation after hearing his name. “Feel free to bring it up with her. My son, Michael Hadad-Cohan, will thank you.” He blew on his second coffee, took a sip, and then addressed Kelly. “We may as well get started while everybody is in a good mood from the food.”
The ambassador nodded and moved towards the section of the buffet where Ian had optimistically set out a haggis, leading to an open space in front of the table. Daniel came along with her, quietly discouraging the sales reps from following, and the conversations at the tables died out as everybody returned to their seats.
“Good morning,” Kelly began. “I am Ambassador McAllister and I’ve been asked by the Stryx to lead the, uh, biological contingent of the upcoming mission to the Alts. I’m sure you all know as much as I do about it from reading the Galactic Free Press, so let me get right to the point. While business is a large component of any relationship between species, for a first contact mission, we want to emphasize the benefits of trade as opposed to closing deals.”
“There is no benefit unless you close deals,” somebody called out.
“Yes, I’m aware of that. But you have to keep in mind that none of us have a clue what this new species might be like or what products would interest them. What we hope to accomplish, with your cooperation, is to show how humanity has quickly adapted some of the products and technologies of alien species, and in that way, to encourage the Alts to do the same.”
“You want to invite them to compete with us?” a woman asked incredulously. “Where’s the profit in that?”
“We’re not here to discuss making money today, Pinka,” Daniel addressed the woman, who was wearing a gold-plated Drazen pitch pipe on a necklace. “This is a Stryx mission and we’re just along to make a good impression. Think of it as an honor.”
“I’ve been told by several of my colleagues from other species that unless the Alts reject the Stryx outright, we should e
xpect a large delegation of them to accompany us back to Union Station to see what the tunnel network is all about,” Kelly continued. “I’m sure that some of you have seen the announcements for the Dollnick resort worlds trade show that will be monopolizing the Empire Convention Center starting this weekend and running through the next two cycles. They have graciously agreed to vacate part of the Nebula room for an all-species commerce show on being notified that an Alt delegation is returning with us.”
“So the smart move is staying here and preparing,” Pinka concluded.
“Better to spread our chances,” said the man with the axe-loop. “Why doesn’t each community send a representative to make a good impression, and the rest of us can work on getting ready for a show?”
“Can we agree right now that any information about the new customers sent back by representatives on the mission is shared among all of us?” another man asked.
“Agreed,” practically the whole room chorused.
“I’ll go,” Suzy volunteered. “There’s plenty of time for one of our other reps to get here and handle the setup.”
“Count me in,” Dyhenth said, winking at the brown-faced woman who had accompanied him back to the table of reps from Verlock open worlds.
“Me too,” Ursula chimed in.
“That covers the Frunge, the Verlocks and the Hortens,” Daniel said. “Who’s going to represent a Dollnick world?”
“I’ll do it,” Bob offered. “Our floaters sell themselves in any case.”
“Come on, which of you axe-wielders is going to step up,” the associate ambassador challenged the humans from Drazen open worlds.
“I guess I can do it,” the woman with the gold pitch pipe said, drawing a round of applause for being a good sport.
“Don’t you have somebody from a Vergallian world?” Kelly asked Daniel.
“Not a sovereign community, the Empire doesn’t work that way,” he replied. “Am I leaving anybody out?”
